If it's the weed that's managed to make him jump across this sort of spatial being, then Olaf has got to commend the dealer in Bali he'd managed to get this crop from. True, there's probably a more god-related reason for all of this, but there isn't any large rush to get back home, what with there only being a giant on the loose and Thor in town and possibly-Frigg -- not that he's going to do anything for it, he's the old folk and the men have gone off to battle.

Olaf is more than happy to stand here and accept drinks where he can. This is the sort of battleground he's accustomed to -- heady, clouded, beyond reproach thinking and a pleasing warmth delivered by whatever's on tap. It's being part of the universe and you've gotta love the universe.